You're Invited
by cmr2014
Summary: Impending nuptials cost Meryl her job. That means a Typhoon is going to hit.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.

**You're Invited**

"They _what_?!"

"I'm sorry, Meryl, I really am," sobbed her coworker Karen into the phone. "I was so excited over your news that I blabbed and the Chief found out, and he just blew his stack! He was stomping all around yelling about conflict of interest, and this is completely unethical, then he went in his office and slammed the door and the next thing I heard was, 'Meryl Stryfe and Milly Thonpson are fired!'"

"But they can't fire us!" Meryl protested. "Who does the Chief think has been keeping Broom-head here from going around causing wanton destruction?"

"Stop calling me that!" Vash protested in the background.

Meryl threw a donut at him. "Will you shut up? I'm on the phone!"

"Broom-head?" Karen queried.

"Vash," Meryl explained. "He likes it when I call him Broom-head."

"I do not!"

"How did you ever fall in love with such a dangerous man, anyway?" Karen wanted to know.

"He's not really that dangerous. Well, yes, he can be. But he…he's more…he would never…when I look at him, he's just my Vash," was the best Meryl could explain it.

"Well, I'll try to be happy for you," her friend said. "But the facts remain, the Chief knows you're involved with Vash the Stampede, and you're both fired."

"You know, I always thought he was a smart man, but now I see he's just a dolt," Meryl seethed. "You tell him he's not invited to the wedding!" She slammed the phone down.

She turned around to get Vash – and saw the whole post office staring at her.

"What the hell are you all looking at?" she demanded. "It's not _my_ fault this is the only phone in town. Mind your business!"

When Meryl commanded, people obeyed. The post office bustled back to business as usual.

"Vash, let's go!"

"Sure thing," Vash said, munching on the donut she'd thrown at him.

He waited until they got home to ask. "What's the matter?"

She whirled on him and pointed. "I'll tell you what's the matter!" she huffed. "Milly and I have been fired."

"What? But they can't do that!"

Meryl crossed her arms and snorted. "That's what I thought, but apparently they can. It seems the company can say who I can and can't love."

"The hell they can!" Vash went to the closet and took out something he thought he'd never wear again – his red duster.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" Meryl asked as he put it on and strapped on his holster.

He smiled devilishly, the hint of trouble in his eyes. "We're getting married. I'm going to go give your boss an invitation."


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.

It was a lovely, sunny day. Thus it was very unfortunate for the main office of the Bernardelli Insurance Society when, at 2:27 pm, a typhoon hit.

The big double-doors were kicked open. The people on the ground floor looked up. For a heartbeat, time stood still. Vash was rooted on one leg, other leg still extended in his kick. The red duster contrasted his blond hair, the only bright colors in his silhouette against the sunlight, lending him a sinister look. The yellow-tinted sunglasses hid his eyes, completing the effect of his wrath-of-God facial expression.

Then time resumed. The leg came down. He stood facing the insurance people.

"_I AM VASH THE STAMPEDE! I AM THE LIVING DEATH KNELL, AND I TOLL FOR THEE!"_

A mass exodus of the ground floor poured around him. People were actually climbing over other people to flee. Perhaps he'd been a little too over the top. Maybe take it down a notch.

"And if you ain't down with that, I got two words for ya!"

One of the fleeing people stopped and shouted, "SUCK IT!" Vash knocked him through an open window for stealing the end of his line. The ensuing splash indicated he'd landed in a mud puddle, a fate befitting a line-stealer.

With the people gone, the ground floor was deathly quiet. There were perfect acoustics. Vash climbed the center stairs to the main insurance floor, stomping his boots to make sure the sound carried for the benefit of anyone upstairs who might be listening. He felt like a kid playing at being a bad guy – but hey, if it got Meryl her job back…

The main floor was abuzz with insurance drones going about the business of the Bernardelli hive. They apparently hadn't heard all the commotion downstairs.

Vash sighed; it used to be a lot easier to scare the living daylights out of people. He could just walk right through them and get down to the crux of the matter, but he'd planned this for the extra edge that mass panic would give him. Nothing made people reasonable like a strong state of fear.

He was standing there deciding on the most dramatic way to get everyone's attention when a short, balding man came up to him. "Can I help you, sir?"

Perfect. He grabbed the man by the knot of his tie, hoisting him off his feet until they were eye to sunglasses. Growled, "Tell your boss Vash the Stampede wants a word."

It was a bit too effective – the short man fainted. Well, crap. Now he really was starting to get in a foul mood. He let the short man drop, slumping by a desk.

"Son of a bitch!" he snarled in frustration.

The sounds of business stopped. Everyone looked up. Dozens, maybe even more than a hundred, of professionally dressed, civilized people locked eyes with the most dangerous man on the entire planet.

They stared. He stared back, waiting.

More waiting. Gee, maybe he should order a sandwich if it was going to take them this long. "What are y'all waiting for? Get the hell out of the way!"

His words triggered action. Everybody acted at once. Screams and shrieks erupted. Most of them scurried under their desks, trying to hide. A thin man stood behind a fica plant. One woman seemed to think he couldn't see her if she froze like a statue.

Vash strode slowly down the center aisle, eyes locked on his goal. He had thought about donning a black helmet and playing "The Imperial March" for this part, but the sense of dread brought about by slow, thudding bootsteps made more practical sense to him.

He reached the door he was aiming for at the end of the aisle. The frosted glass window in the door read:

**CHIEF OF FIELD OPERATIONS**

**BERNARDELLI INSURANCE SOCIETY**

**KNOCK BEFORE ENTERING**

Vash the Stampede knocked on the window his way, pulling his revolver and smashing it in. The window dissipated in shards that tinkled as they hit the floor. He stuck his head in at the astonished Chief, a portly man with thinning brown hair and a pencil mustache.

"Hi there." His grin somehow made the words sound like a pronouncement of death. He opened the door and stepped up to the desk, towering over the man seated at it.

"What's the meaning of this?" the Chief blustered. "Who do you think you are, pulling this insane stunt? You can't –"

Vash took a wanted poster from inside his duster and tossed it on the desk. "I can. I am."

The Chief looked at the poster. His eyes went wide as he realized he was looking at something worse than a devil.

"You – you're – you can't be –" He was the Chief for a reason; his authoritative side reasserted itself. "_What the hell are you doing in my office, you criminal!_"

Vash leaned over the desk, laying his gun flat, pointed at the Chief. Hand still on it, finger on the trigger.

"Meryl Stryfe kept me in check." The evil grin was back. "You fired her. You took the chains off. Thanks. Now I can do what I want. Right now I feel like burning this entire company to the ground."

"You can't be serious! You're going to destroy this building, even this company, for firing an employee we had every right to fire?" The Chief was aghast. "Meryl Stryfe was an extremely competent agent, but she broke the rules. No one is so important they are above the rules."

Vash put his face against the Chief's, letting the man see the_ real_ anger burn in his eyes. "She is."

He could see the panic begin in the Chief's expression. He was finally getting through. Now for the offer.

"If you want to be safe, put the chains back on. Hire her back."

The Chief pondered for several seconds. Was the gunman really serious? Break precedence and hire back someone who was justifiably fired on provable grounds?

He had the power to destroy cities. You don't test a man like that.

"Fine," he sighed with a wave of his hand. "If it gets you to go away, she can have her job back."

Win!

"One more thing. After Augusta, you took her off the case."

"And put her back on!" the Chief protested.

Meryl had shown him the memorandum she had received. Tears had shrink-wrapped her eyes as she recounted her aftermath of the fifth moon incident.

"…_will be uninvolved."_

Vash bore his part in her pain, he knew. And so did this man before him. The company made its decisions based on business, and in that point of view couldn't be blamed; but Vash made his decisions based on Meryl.

He cocked the gun.

"Putting her back on the case doesn't change what you did. You helped make Meryl cry. That's not acceptable."

The Chief was beginning to think his death was a real possibility. "She's hired back, what more do you want? Are you so callous you'd kill me for making Meryl Stryfe cry?!"

"Not if you give her a pay raise."

The Chief grasped at the straw Vash offered. "Done!"

Vash de-cocked and holstered. The malicious expression changed to a friendly smile. "Very good. Please put everything in writing and send copies to Meryl, both of her re-hiring and her pay raise." He pointed his finger like a gun. "Or I'll be back."

He turned to leave, and the Chief relaxed. Turned back. The Chief tensed again, halfway wondering if he was supposed to give Meryl his job now.

"Forgot this."

Vash took something out of his duster, laid it on top of the wanted poster. Left the office.

The Chief breathed in relief. Once he was calm again, he looked at what Vash left. It was a white piece of paper, beautifully trimmed edges.

At the top was a picture of Vash and Meryl. She stood with a derringer in each hand, crossed over her torso. Vash was behind her, leaning down so his head rested on her shoulder. One arm held the gun pointed straight up in front of her crossed arms. The other arm was securely around her waist. Their smiles showed true happiness.

Date and time information were at the bottom of the paper. In between that and the picture were its message:

**YOU ARE CORDIALLY INVITED**

**TO THE WEDDING OF**

**VASH THE STAMPEDE & MERYL STRYFE**

"**FOR LOVE AND PEACE,**

**WE STAND TOGETHER AGAINST THE WORLD"**


End file.
